No More Guilty Pleasures

Back in about 1992 or so, my roommate brought home a gift from his girlfriend -- the latest edition of the Rolling Stone Music Guide. A red-white-and-blue book almost twice as thick as my fist, the Guide contained written reviews and "star ratings" of almost every rock'n'roll album out there. Five stars was a classic, four among the best an artist has to offer and among the better in its genre. Three stars merely average in the grand scheme of things. Et cetera, putting each album and artist in critical and historical context of the history of popular music in the rock era.

I absconded with it almost immediately and read it nearly cover to cover, evaluating my musical tastes against those of trained critics, feeling alternately elated and disappointed in their take on my favorites.

There seems to exisit a class of people who want their tastes to be critically approved, and I, unfortunately was one of them. It was suddenly no good to like Billy Joel (** or ***), Joe Jackson (***) or Harry Chapin (**, ***). I had to feel guilty for thinking that Van Morrison's "Moondance" was overrated and dated, for feeling that John Hiatt's "Bring the Family" (***) was superior to "Slow Turning" (****), and being unmoved by any of Springsteen's five-star "classics" after "Born to Run".

The Guide ruined me. Suddenly, I was musically adrift. Some artists I'll probably never enjoy again. I turned to new music -- to alt country / rural rock to escape -- new-ish genres barely touched by the Guide at that time. But I still remember the ratings on some of my favorites, a good 13 or so years later.

Now, I'm going through my CD collection and re-discovering old music that was supposed to have sucked, but, you know, doesn't really. As I write, I'm listening to The Waterboy's "Room to Roam" (two or three stars or so -- I am doing this from memory). The Rolling Stone reviews gave four stars to anything they did before "Fisherman's Blues" and two or three after that.

I loved "Fisherman's Blues" -- still do -- I bought it on tape before I had a CD player (yeah, I'm old). Rollicking, Dylan-esque vocals melded with romantic Irish folk and emotional, universal lyrics, ending with a beautiful reading of Yeats' "The Stolen Child," the likes of which I've never heard on a rock album before or since.

"Room to Roam" was the follow up, and I grabbed it. Listened to it constantly. Lead Waterboy muse Mike Scott must have gotten happy for this album, one that dove headfirst into the Irish folk and romantic legends -- filled with stories and songs about Raggle Taggle Gypsies and a trip to Broadford Green in springtime, and heartfelt folk rock paeons to first loves and longtime romance.

There's probably a story behind all this -- I don't care what it is. There are surely more "authentic" Irish folkies -- it doesn't matter. For me, every time I hear "Room to Roam," I want to dance around the room and sing out loud.

In addition:

> I've seen Barry Manilow in concert. He was great. So were Paul Anka, Anne Murray and Judy Collins. So were James Taylor and Elton John.

> The Beach Boys sucked. Los Lobos didn't have it the night I saw them.

> Semisonic was the sexiest live band ever.

> As far as I'm concerned, no artist who became big in the Sixties and early Seventies has done an album worth listening to since 1983. That includes you, Bruce, Van, Crosby, Stills, Nash AND Young. It includes you, Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger, each of the Who, any former Beatle, Byrd or Animal. And it includes, you, Bob Dylan, who's had multiple lauded comeback albums that do nothing whatsoever for me. It doesn't include John Prine, who I like, because he was never that big in the first place. I'm sure there are tons of exceptions.

In conclusion, go out and get "Room to Roam." Maybe you'll like it, too. Or maybe you won't. One thing I promise is that hereforth, I'll no more speak of "guilty pleasures." There's no good reason to feel guilty at all.

I'm going to dance around the coffee shop now.